Distinctive Approach
by Cerveza
Summary: Gaara/Matsuri, ficlet. Women sure are frustrating.


**A/N: My second shot at fluff. Hope it works.**

**Happy reading. :)**

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><p>The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was somebody standing there, brandishing some flowers.<p>

"You're peculiar," he said.

"Maybe," she piped up cheerily. "Or maybe I'm just too eager to see you back from Konoha."

He strode over to his desk in a weary manner while watching her arranging the plants on a vase.

"I don't need flowers."

"Yes you do," her tone was deceptively merry. "Otherwise how else are you gonna be reminded of me?"

He let out a sigh. "I just don't think it's necessary."

She only responded by a melodic humming, making it plain that his protests weren't going to get him anywhere.

"There, done," she took a few steps back to admire her work of art. "What's that you were saying again?"

Women sure are frustrating. He uttered a silent gratitude to the Gods for only giving him one as his sibling. Temari could be quite an earful sometimes, but he had long since understood the meaning of 'caring reprimands'. Or at least she _made _the hell sure he did.

This one, however, was quite a different case.

"Nevermind. Don't you have something to do?"

"Apart from hanging around in your office? Nope. Missions, paperwork, all done," she chirped, slumping herself on the chair right in front of him with a mischievous smirk. "You're not getting rid of me that easy, Gaara-sama."

"I'm not trying to-"

"Anyway," the sandy-haired girl pressed on, and nobody, he repeated, _nobody _else ever had the slightest inkling in their guts to cut his sentence for the fear of their sweet, precious lives, "I _also _happen to know that you are available for the rest of the night. No obligations or work you can use as an excuse for stopping me watching you staring at your window,"

Alright, that is it. "In that case," he rose very suddenly, earning a barely visible twitch of surprise at her expense, "I would like you to follow me."

"Is that an order?" she asked, could not quite disguise the meekness in her utterance.

"It is," he replied in an indifferent tone, not even commanding, which sent a clear enough signal for her to oblige. Matsuri liked driving her former sensei to the edge, but maybe this was a bit too far. She had to fight back a shudder when a realization dawned at her; this time, the Kazekage meant business.

Obediently she trailed along. His footsteps echoed on the dimly lit corridor, his blood-red robe billowing behind him. The Kazekage office building was typically vacant around this hour, and from the swift gust of chill stroking her cheeks she could tell that dusk had arrived. She had no idea where he would take her, but judging from his stance, it'd be best if she just swallow the questions down.

If he were born with the capability to smile, he would've been grinning hysterically at the lack of her voice he'd been so accustomed to for the past few years. Ah, the blissful silence…

His footsteps came into a halt—so did hers, as he reached out a hand to open a door.

"The meeting room? This is where you're taking me?"

He did not respond at first to her incredulous query. Merely he stood on the entrance, holding the door while beckoning her to come in.

Still with eyebrows drawn together, she stepped inside and was met with almost total darkness as he closed the door.

"What am I-"

"Look up," he said. She did.

Being a Sunagakure recently-appointed jounin, she only had the chance to visit the circular room several times. She hadn't had one meeting there, however, since it was intended exclusively for the elders and the village superiors, but she already knew too well of the stiff chairs and round windows surrounding the room.

Yet she certainly had never before imagined that its roof could open up to expose the shimmering dots of stars now spreading on the skies above her.

"I had my assistant clear out my entire schedule for today," he enunciated calmly. "Maybe you are not the only one who is… eager,"

On her mesmerized state she missed to recognize that the usual large round table was absent and replaced by a lone wooden one with a chair on each of its end. There was a candlestick on the middle, which he was currently setting alight. The glow from the candle informed her that there were also two sets of complete meal laid out meticulously on the table. He slowly sat down and looked at her.

"Hungry?"

She smiled.

**end.**

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><p><strong>Cliché? Maybe. But who doesn't like a good ol' cliché? ;)<strong>


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